My death waits like an old roué so confident I'll go his way whistle to him and the passing time... My death waits like a bible truth at the funeral of my youth weep loud for that - and the passing time... My death waits like a witch at night as surely as our love is bright let's not think about the passing time
But whatever lies behind the door there is nothing much to do... angel or devil, I don't care for in front of that door... there is you.
My death waits like a beggar blind who sees the world through an unlit mind throw him a dime for the passing time... My death waits there between your thighs your cool fingers will close my eyes lets think of that and the passing time My death waits to allow my friends a few good times before it ends so let's drink to that and the passing time
But what ever lies behind the door, there is nothing much to do angel or devil I don't care for in front of that door... there is you
My death waits there among the leaves in magicians mysterious sleeves rabbits and dogs and the passing time my death waits there among the flowers where the blackest shadow, blackest shadow cowers let's pick lilacs for the passing time
My death waits there, in a double bed sails of oblivion at my head so pull up the sheets against the passing time
But whatever lies behind the door there is nothing much to do angel or devil...i dont care for in front of that door there is... [audience shout, "Me"]
Thank you.Моя Смерть ждет меня пьяной, Шлюшка, я волочусь за ней, Свистну ей, и бегущим часам... Моя Смерть ждет меня библейской, С похорон иудейских. Выпить бы ей, и бегущим часам... Моя Смерть ждет меня ведьмой, Напролет, ночью летней, Верна, будто я Тебе, и бегущим часам...
Моя Смерть ждет меня нищей, Видит лишь мир темноты, Ты дай ей грош, и бегущим часам... Моя Смерть ждет меня другом, Облегчение близким людям, Верна, будто я Тебе, и бегущим часам...
Моя Смерть ждет меня в листьях, В волшебства рукавах, Псы и кроли, - все бегущим часам... Моя Смерть ждет меня тенью, Ты будь мне сиренью, - все бегущим часам... Моя Смерь ждет меня в ложе, Парусами забвения стелет, Верна, будто я Тебе, и бегущим часам...
Ворота, Впереди ворота, Но мне все равно - Еще заслоняешь их Ты...
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